


Let the Winds Blow High or Blow Low

by EmperorNorton150



Series: Catra's Coup [5]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Navy, Not Canon Compliant, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmperorNorton150/pseuds/EmperorNorton150
Summary: With pirates preying on Horde commerce, Catra makes the decision to hire an experienced mariner who can lead the Horde fleet to victory.
Series: Catra's Coup [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805098
Comments: 16
Kudos: 51





	Let the Winds Blow High or Blow Low

“Pirates?” whined Catra plaintively.

“Pirates!” confirmed Scopria with a beaming smile. Catra rubbed her forehead with a groan, glowering at the table.

“Didn’t the Horde crush all the piracy in the Sea of Sighs decades ago?”

“Uh-huh, sure did, but that was Octavia who did all the crushing and squashing and incinerating and, well, y’know, she’s still in jail—”

“She can get out whenever she swears loyalty to me!”

“And then you did that whole purge of the Armada because you said you couldn’t trust any of her officers—”

“I couldn’t!”

“So now the fleet is in a tad bit of a little mess”. Catra glared at Scorpia, but nothing her chief subordinate had said was actually _wrong_ , no matter how much it annoyed her. Her looked at the report lying on the conference table before her again and her frown deepened. Three Horde convoys attacked and pillaged in the last two weeks by freebooters and buccaneers. This was intolerable. Outsiders looked at the Horde and saw nothing but strength, legions of bots and tanks and faceless Horde troopers stretching to the horizon. They didn’t see the endless river of resources that it took to maintain them; food and steel and tungsten and oil and exotic minerals, without which the Horde’s entire apparatus would come grinding to a screeching halt. To be fair, Catra had never considered that before becoming Force Captain, and her first few attempts to grapple with the logistical realities of management had been…...sub-optimal. But she had overcome those difficulties. Just like she overcame _everything_. Without the raw materials to feed her manufactories and forges, everything she’d accomplished would be undone. And with the small but growing trickle of trade between the Horde and Seaworthy and Salineas now at stake as well, those sea routes were more important than ever.

“All right” she said at last. We’ll teach these vermin to mess with _my_ empire. What naval assets do we have that can be readied for a rapid response deployment?” Scorpia blinked at her. Catra sighed.

“How. Many. Boats. Do. We. Have.” she asked.

“Oh! Just gimme a minute here, don’t you worry.” Scorpia ransacked the pile of documents in front of her, her face a mask of concentration as she threw aside reports and maps and graphs, digging through to find the relevant information. Catra tapped the table with her claws impatiently. Finally, the Force General looked up with a smile.

“A bunch! We have a…...whole bunch of boats.” Catra closed her eyes and counted to ten very slowly. A year or two ago, she would’ve ripped a hole in the table, or possibly shredded the meeting’s agenda into confetti. Now that she _owned_ the table, _and_ the agenda, and everything represented _by_ the agenda, she was trying to keep her temper under a little more control.

“Scorpia. Add a new task to your schedule. I want you to find and hire an experienced naval commander. Now that peace has broken out there must be _someone_ halfway competent and desperate or stupid enough to take a contract from the Horde.”

“Will do wildcat!”

“Fine. Great. What’s next?”

“Well, Force Captain Vultak is complaining once again that his budget allocation is too low…..

“Gahhhhh!!”

* * *

It was a week later that Catra finally was able to make time to travel down to the seacoast to see how Scorpia’s new protegee was getting along. It had been a difficult few days; she had had to endure a five-hour argument with Frosta about mineral rights along the their shared border that had yet to reach a definitive solution, Entrapta was still having trouble duplicating the First Ones spaceship they’d recovered from the Crimson Wastes, pirates had ransacked two more convoys, and she’d had to have another one of those “we can’t _tax_ the village if we _destroy_ the village” conversations with one of her more dull-witted Force Captains. And she hated Octopus Cove. The whole city was wet and sticky and hot. And yet…...as she stalked through the hallway of the naval headquarters, soldiers jumped to attention and saluted, a constant chorus of “Your Excellency!” accompanied by the slap of fists against breastplates tracing her path. She drank it in like water. Part of her knew how stupid it was to take it seriously. These men and women had saluted Hordak when he was still in charge with just as much vigor. If Scorpia ever overthrew her, they’d salute Scorpia and mean it. If Ador—if She-Ra ever came crashing through the Fright Zone’s ceiling and took over, these men would be happy to salute _her_. But it still made her feel better. They _feared_ her. They _respected_ her. They _depended_ on her. Shadow Weaver had called her useless, Hordak had seen her as a tool, Adora had been too good for her. But she _was_ the Horde now. She commanded it, she bound it and loosed it. No one could take that away from her. So, by the time she reached the throne room, she was in a decent mood. This would prove fortuitous.

Catra draped herself across the throne, her staff and bodyguards fanning out around the green and red marble room. She wrinkled her nose.

“Wasn’t our new admiral supposed to meet me here?” she asked rhetorically. Force Captain Lonnie, who was acting as her adjutant today, just shrugged. Catra was deciding just how annoyed she wanted to be, when the distant sound of singing began to echo through the hall.

“ _Willie Taylor and his youthful lover,  
Full of mirth and loyalty,  
They were going to the church to be married,  
He was pressed and sent on sea,  
Dally dilly dum, dilly dum dum dum dum,  
Dally dilly dum, dilly dum dum day!_”

A tall, lean man in blue coat, red bandana and dashing mustache strode into the room, singing lustily, Force General Scorpia trotting behind him. When he was still a few feet away from the throne, he dropped to his knee and made an elaborate bow.

“Well met, O Commander of the Horde! It is I, the greatest mariner to ever sail the eleven seas, the finest captain to ever command a vessel, the most excellent sailor to ever handle a tiller, the—” Catra raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you that captain who’s always setting his ships on fire?”

“Well, _yes_ , that has been known to occur a time or two in the course of my adventures—”

“The one who’s always chasing after Mermista?”

“Indeed! She is the love of my life, and I of hers! For it is I, the bold, the terrible, the—”

“Seagull, right?”

“Er, _Hawk_. Sea Hawk.”

“Of course.” Catra tapped her claws on the arm of her throne, shooting a glare at the oblivious Scorpia. “So. Why did you take this position?” He struck a pose.

“Adventure! Why, what could be a more exciting and noble task than to help rid the seas of the scurvy dogs and piratical scum who make their living by stealing from honest sailors? It would be an honor, O Gracious and Powerful Ruler, to aid you in this noble task! Also, I need money to replace my ship. The last one caught on fire.”

“I……see. Well Fleet Captain Sea Hawk, the task for you is simple. Take a force of warships and sail south to the Serpentine Strait. Engage and destroy these vile creatures who dare the challenge the Horde’s might in the Sea of Sighs and the Etherian Ocean. Protect any merchant ships in the area. Capture and secure the pirate havens on Death’s Head Island and Blackbeard Reef. Put an end to this nuisance. Accomplish this successfully, and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. Provided that your wildest dreams do not exceed the terms of your contract. Is this understood?”

“As you command! With my hearty crew I shall go forth, and together we shall face the fiercest cutthroats and criminal! We shall brave the most treacherous seas! We shall challenge the wildest storms, and emerge through to seek new lands to discover, new adventures to be had, new—” Catra’s claws flexed open and Sea Hawk abruptly burbled to a stop, his eyes wide.

“Are you ready to depart?” she asked, in a deceptively mild voice. Sea Hawk nodded rapidly.

“Uh, yes Your Excellency! Right away!”

“Then do so. Now.” Sea Hawk made another elaborate bow, and backed out of the room. A few moments later, after he vanished down the corridor, they heard the distant sound of singing again:

“ _Well oh, Lukey's boat is painted green,  
Ha, me boys!  
Lukey's boat is painted green,  
The prettiest boat that you've ever seen,  
A-ha, me boys a-riddle-i-day!  
A-ha, me boys a-riddle-i-day!_”

Catra crooked a finger, and Lonnie leaned in. Catra nodded after the departed mariner.

“Go with him on this cruise. You’ll be playing commissar. Make sure he doesn’t ram the fleet into a reef or set the flagship on fire. If he does—I don’t know, feed him to the sharks or something”. Lonnie smirked.

“Sure thing boss”. She trotted after him. Catra looked at Scorpia.

“Why in the world did you hire _him_?”

“Aww, isn’t he great? They say he ran the GaleBreath Gauntlet in less than twenty leagues! And he navigated the Serpentine Straits once without even chipping the paint on his boat!”

“ _Who_ said?” 

“Oh, he did!” Catra sighed, and flicked her ears.

“Oh well. If nothing else, it’ll annoy that mermaid girl. That alone is worth _something_.”

* * *

“I am _so_ going to kill him the next time I see him!” shouted Mermista, for the tenth or twelfth time in as many minutes. The shredded fragments of a letter lay scattered around the room, along with the remains of several vases and a coral sculpture. Outside the glass bubble wall, fish swam by serenely. Several servants and the Undersecretary for Palace Protocol did their best to remain invisible to their princess’s wrath.

“UGH, it’s like, I don’t even know why I put up with him anymore? First the Dolphin Social, now defecting to the Horde. This is _totally_ , like, treason or whatever.” The Undersecretary coughed delicately.

“Well, ah, Your Highness, as we are currently in a state of peace with the Horde I do not believe that Mister Sea Hawk’s actions, however regrettable they may be, constitute ‘treason’ as defined…..” Mermista skewered the hapless bureaucrat with her eyes and he trailed off slowly.

“High Treason” she proclaimed grandly. “And that other thing— _Lèse-majesté_. And just, like, being the absolute worst boyfriend ever.” She frowned. “Also, sedition. And crimes against the state. And subversion. Not to mention, like—.” The Undersecretary took the opportunity to slip out of the room while his liege-lady was distracted. This was clearly going to take a while.

* * *

Like a school of leviathans, the Horde flotilla cut across the wine-dark waters of the Etherian Ocean, the angular green and black hulls of the massive warships slicing through the waves. Clouds of smoke poured from their funnels, darkening the sky, their black sails fluttering in the breeze, and sunlight glistened off the barrels of their gun-turrets. At regular intervals their horns sounded, a primal call of dominance that sent Etherian ships scattering at the noise. A dreadnaught, two armored cruisers, seven light cruisers, and nine destroyers, with three fat transports wallowing in their wake. It was the largest naval deployment of the Horde Armada in years, since the Royal Salinean Navy had inflicted such devastating losses on it during the reign of King Mercia. Force Captain Lonnie didn’t care about the historic importance of the mission. She didn’t care about its economic importance, or the potential political ramifications. She just wished she were back home in the Fright Zone. Oh, at first this hadn’t seemed like a such a hard job. She’d been delighted to get away from Catra for a few days, take a nice cruise, fight some pirates, maybe get to throw someone to the sharks. Catra wasn’t the worst boss—she was _way_ better than Hordak had ever been, but it was still exhausting spending all her time running at someone’s beck and call. A nice trip out to sea would be welcome break. Or it would have been, she thought grumpily, standing on the quarterdeck of the 200-meter-long dreadnaught _Obliterator_ _._ She really, really hadn’t realized just how bad— 

“ _T'was of the young captain who sailed the salt sea,  
Let the winds blow high or blow low-o!  
I will die, I will die, the young captain did cry,  
If I can’t have that maid on the shore, shore, shore,  
If I can’t have that maid on the shore!” _

—just how bad the singing would be. She turned round, just as a hand clapped her heartily on the shoulder.

“Ahoy matey! I espied you slipping out the back while I was entertaining the bridge crew with another stirring tale of my adventures and I thought to myself, ‘if my valiant companion is willing to forego the tale of lifetime, then something of importance must be afoot!’ So! What news?” How was this _worse_ than getting screamed at by Catra?

“I, um—I was wondering about our plans, sir?” she ventured finally. “Are you planning to send detachments of ships to escort our convoys? Or an assault on one of the pirate havens? Or a blockade?” Sea Hawk beamed.

“My scheme is simplicity itself! Our fine force of ships has descended southward, and now we have set the bait of a fearsome trap!” He pointed dramatically to the eastern horizon, where a weathered and grim cliff face loomed in the distance. “To starboard, the Serpentine Straits!” He swept out his other hand, encompassing the western seas, where thousands of eddies and currents crashed amongst the spiky field of rocks. “To port, the Shoals of Misfortune! Between them, our noble squadron, pinned without room to maneuver!” Lonnie scratched her head.

“That sounds more like _we’re_ trapped….”

“Precisely! Our tactical position is so poor, these corsairs will undoubtedly attack us here, believing our tactical position to be poor. We will make them think we’ve fallen afoul of their trap—by leaping into their trap!” Lonnie was now frowning so hard her eyes were crossed.

“With all due respect Fleet Captain, either you’re an idiot or I am and I don’t think it’s me! We cannot risk this fleet on a stupid—” In the crow’s nest the lookout suddenly sang out.

“ _Sails ahoy! Sails ahoy_!” A klaxon started howling.

“ _General quarters! General quarters! All hands to battle stations!_ ” 

Sea Hawk laughed.

“Adventure calls!” he shouted, running back towards the wheelhouse. Lonnie chased after, cursing under her breath.

Her mood was not improved by the sight that reached when she arrived and saw the seas before them crowded with dozens, perhaps scores of ships. Barks, frigates, cutters, brigantines, yachts—it was a veritable armada of the scum of the sea, battered and decrepit ships, coated in peeling paint and the accumulated filth of hundreds of voyages without proper rest or succor, faded skull-and-crossbones flags flying from masts, and hundreds of lowlifes and criminals crowding their decks, brandishing a variety of makeshift weaponry. Their cannons, however, looked to be in tiptop shape.

“We must be outnumbered at least ten to one!” Sea Hawk cried gleefully. The reptilian captain of the _Obliterator_ shot Lonnie a glance, silently asking _can we feed him to the sharks yet?_ Lonnie reluctantly shook head back. _Not yet._

“Raise the topgallants! Ready the mainsail! Man the rigging!” Sea Hawk was shouting. Lonnie tapped him on the shoulder.

“These ships have _engines_ , remember? The sails are for emergencies.” He pouted.

“Ah yes, of course. Then engines to maximum! Full steam ahead!” One by one, the vessels of the Horde flotilla sprung ahead, racing to meet their foe. Swarms of enemy ships pivoted to present their broadsides, clearing for action as the two forces neared each other, forming a ragged line stretching across the horizon in front of them. Hundreds of canons gaped, their mouths yawning open to reveal pits of inky darkness waiting to swallow them whole. From one ship, a three-masted galleon painted in gaudy stripes of gold and red, huge banners unfurled from the rigging. Lonnie peered through the pedestal-mounted binoculars mounted on the wheelhouse’s deck. She read aloud.

“The first one says ‘DOWN WITH THE HORDE’. The other one says ‘DEATH TO SEA HAWK’. Friends of yours, by any chance?” Sea Hawk let out a hearty chuckle.

“Why, all mariners on the Etherian Ocean are friends of Sea Hawk!” Lonnie was reconsidering throwing him overboard when the enemy fleet began to fire. _Boom! Boom! Boom!_ Even from hundreds of meters away, the roar of the cannonade shook the deck. Other pirate ships sent up swarms of rockets, shrieking their way across the sky. Still others set catapults and trebuchets into action, arching rocks, bombs, and bundles of burning pitch towards the encroaching Horde squadron. Lonnie braced herself as the bombardment reached them, cannon balls slamming into the steel sides of the dreadnaught, sending vibrations _humming_ through them, rockets bursting overhead, ripping the sail to tatters. A mortar bomb detonated on the foredeck, but the damage appeared to be minimal. Not every ship was as lucky. The destroyer _Vengeful_ came hard about abruptly, black smoke pouring from amidships where a pair of cannon balls had ripped open her boiler. The light cruiser _Knifeheart_ shuddered as her bow turret exploded and her mainmast topped down, but kept in formation. Horde warships began returning fire sporadically, but without coordination or planning. Sea Hawk was almost dancing with excitement.

“O, what danger! What peril! The enemy has penned us in, and how all hope seems lost! Why, ‘tis even worse than the Third Battle of Salineas, where I single-handedly turned the tide of war with my prowess! Did I ever tell you about that?”

“ _YES!_ ” the captain’s roar a counterpoint to Lonnie’s howl of frustration. She grabbed the Fleet Captain’s shoulder and shouted in his ear. “Shouldn’t you be giving orders or something?!”

“A splendid suggestion matey!” Sea Hawk drew out a spyglass from a pocket and scanned the horizon, pivoting to look at the fleet of enemy vessels, then at the comparatively small unit of Horde ships, then at the sky, then at the cliffs of the Serpentine Straits and the rocks of the Shoals of Misfortune. More gunfire roared, but he ignored it. Finally, after a long and blessedly silent moment, he spoke.

“We shall form our ships into a single line, bow to stern, a spear, aimed at the heart of the foe, like the Trident of Mermista herself! Then, we shall strike! Ram their formation, split it into two, and face down these sea-terrors in a combat that bards shall sing about for generations! Forward, my friends, to victory!” The captain’s eyes widened, his nictitating membranes flickering. His tail lashed, and he roared in frustration.

“[Madness! Madness!]” he bellowed. “[That imbecile would have us cross our own T!]”

“What the heck does that mean?” asked Lonnie.

“[The enemy fleet is broadside to us! All of their guns are facing us and can fire at once! But if we approach them vertically, then only the bow guns on our lead ship can bear on the enemy!]” the agitated officer drew a picture in the air with his claws. Lonnie made a guttural sound of disgust deep in her throat. Then she threw up her hands.

“Do it anyways! He’s either a genius or he’s not, and if he’s not we’re probably doomed, so let’s just assume he is for now!” The captain moaned, but gave the orders.

The Horde warships maneuvered, sliding into the new formation as the pirate bombardment continued to flail the waters around them. The _Obliterator_ was in the center of the column, with the armored cruiser _Exterminator_ ahead of her and the armored cruiser _Devastator_ directly behind. The escort vessels formed up to their rear and in the front, until the force was a single lance, pointed directly at the middle of the enemy line. The transports turned about, steaming back north out of range of combat. If they all survived, they’ll rendezvous with them again later. Lonnie held tight to the railing and prepared for death. The Horde flotilla raced forward, enemy fire hammering all around them—but they weren’t exploding or sinking or catching on fire. A few hits slammed into their force, the destroyer _Hateful_ losing a funnel to a wayward rock, the _Exterminator_ heaving from a rocket hit on her quarterdeck, but most of the enemy bombardment was missing. Lonnie was no expert in naval warfare, but she had quite a lot of experience in calculating trajectories and flight paths in training and battle, and it looked to her like the sudden change in the Horde’s formation had confused the enemy’s firing plans. They were scrambling to adjust now, but the Horde ships were fast enough to make that more difficult than it would have seemed. And as they dove closer to the enemy line, fewer and fewer guns could depress far enough to bear upon them. She and the captain met each other eyes and exchanged shrugs while Sea Hawk pantomimed a sword fight.

Then the Horde fleet met the pirates and all chaos broke loose. Led by the light cruiser _Bloodlust_ the Horde ships rammed through a gap in the pirate line. 

“Man the guns!” bellowed Sea Hawk. “Etheria expects every man to do his duty!”

Coordinated volleys of laser bursts and high-explosive shells hammered out from both flanks of the fleet, flaying the corsair vessels. With the Horde ships in the middle of their formation, the back and front halves of the pirate armada could no longer properly communicate with each other. Their ships were now spread out across several leagues of ocean, unable to coordinate or maneuver together. Ships at the far ends of the line were unable to come to grips with the Horde squadron, and their broadsides were now positioned facing the wrong direction. Worse, most of the pirate ships were exclusively sail-powered, and had to manually claw their way around to try and meet the Horde ships lodged in their metaphorical heart. The first Horde volley destroyed half-a-dozen enemy ships, sending crews leaping into the water as their schooners and frigates caught afire or were holed by explosions. Subsequent volleys caught individual ships in crossfires, blasting them to pieces, or shredding their rigging and leaving them adrift and helpless. The pirates fought back, of course, and the Horde took losses. _Hateful_ , slow to maneuver with her damaged funnel, was cornered and pounded to pieces by a pair of enemy frigates, though by the time her crew abandoned her to her watery grave, both frigates were burning. The destroyer _Vicious_ took a lucky hit from a catapult projectile and exploded. But the steel armor of the Horde ships did them well, and the pirate fleet, with their plans ruined, seemed unable to react quickly enough to the changing circumstances. Lonnie laughed gleefully as the _Obliterator_ ’s 18-inch guns roared again and again, each flight of shells annihilating a pirate. After only ten or fifteen minutes, half the enemy flotilla was sunk or sinking, and the survivors were starting to abandon ship prematurely. The Horde ships broke formation and began harrying them individually, chasing down the disintegrating line to chase and destroy escaping vessels. Lonnie grabbed Sea Hawk by the shoulders and shook him.

“You lunatic! You absolute lunatic, you actually did it!” Sea Hawk preened.

“Of course I did! Am I not the one, the only, the magnificent Sea Hawk?”

“Whatever you say boss”. In the distance, the red-and-gold galleon that seemed to be the enemy flagship abruptly turned and set its sails, racing east towards the Serpentine Straits, dodging behind the burning hulks of several other pirate ships.

“Hark!” cried Sea Hawk. “Our opposing commander seeks to flee the scene of battle like the coward he is. Let us give chase, and teach him a lesson he will not soon forget!” 

“[He is going through the Serpentine Straits! We cannot take a dreadnaught through there!]” snarled the captain. Lonnie translated for the Fleet Captain’s benefit.

“He’s worried about taking _Obliterator_ through the straits.” Sea Hawk laughed, and struck a heroic pose.

“Not to worry my good captain! I once navigated my vessel through those Straits without chipping its paint, and I can do it again!” Lonnie shrugged.

“He was right about the battle. I guess we should let him try this too.”

The dreadnought's paint was chipped. Actually, most of the paint along the starboard side was ripped off, along with two lifeboat hoists, and most of the railing. Four gun barrels were snapped off, and the ship was badly holed below the waterline, flooding two watertight compartments. But when the _Obliterator_ careened out the other side of the narrow passage, it was still afloat, and the enemy galleon could still be seen in the distance, trying to crowd on sail and make an escape. 

“Now, we must finish them off before they escape! Perhaps if we set our vessel alight and _ram_ them then—” 

“Torpedoes” Lonnie said firmly. “We’ll use torpedoes.”

“Oh alright. If you insist”.

The _Obliterator_ salvoed a spread of torpedoes at the distant flagship, wakes cutting across the bright blue water in a pattern it would be unable to escape. Sea Hawk sighed wistfully, then shook himself.

“Ah well, today truly was a marvelous adventure, was it not?” Lonnie grinned.

“Sure was Fleet Captain. You done good. Catra will be pleased.”

“As will my dearest Mermista! I must compose a ballad commemorating the occasion so that she can truly appreciate my heroics. Hmmm, let’s see, what rhymes with ‘dreadnought’? Oh! How about ‘dread not!’ Perfect! Now—“. Lonnie slipped out of the back of the wheelhouse. A mariner extraordinaire and superlative captain he might actually be. But Sea Hawk was still the worst singer she’d ever met.

* * *

Catra was back in the throne room of Octapus Cove, and Sea Hawk was once again making an elaborate obeisance at her feet. But this time the Generalissimo examined him more carefully. She tapped the report on her lap with a claw.

“Impressive. Force Captain Lonnie doesn’t give out praise easily.” She read aloud from the document, skimming over the blocks of tightly-spaced text. “Thirty-six enemy ships sunk or captured, only two of my warships lost, the enemy bases on Death’s Head Island and Blackbeard Reef seized for the Horde……it seems your reputation was not exaggerated. I doubt these vermin will trouble the Horde again for quite some time.” She nodded, and Scorpia handed Sea Hawk a bulging sack of gold. The captain leapt to his feet.

“Many thanks, Your Excellency! It was been an honor to serve you, and to lead your merry sailors on such a memorable adventure! But now, I must return to Salineas, and to the arms of my own true love.”

“About that.” For a moment, Catra looked genuinely regretful. “I received a letter from Princess Mermista while you were on your…...adventure.”

“A missive of love?” 

“A demand for your extradition on charges of High Treason, _Lèse-majesté,_ Sedition, Subversion, Crimes Against the State and……...a number of other things”. Scorpia handed the captain a sheet of paper, and his eyes widened as he scrolled through the lengthy dispatch. He gulped.

“Oh dear. Oh _dear_. Ah well, _ahem_ , perhaps it would best actually to allow tempers to cool and, _umm_ , yes, certain people time to reconsider some perhaps hasty decisions on their part lest they do something they later _regret_ ….” He looked up at Catra and asked plaintively “Asylum please?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> \- This was written solely because I wanted to write a naval battle. 
> 
> \- The tactic Sea Hawk uses is basically what Nelson did at Trafalgar so there's HISTORICAL PRECEDENT. 
> 
> \- All of the excerpts from sea shanties I include are from real songs, all of which I recommend.


End file.
